Slash on a Plane
by Lorata
Summary: It had to happen sooner or later. What we believe to be the internet's very first 'Snakes on a Plane' slash fic. Entirely banter, oneshot.


Disclaimer: "Snakes on a Plane" belongs to New Line Cinemas and its subsidiaries. Though quite honestly, if they find this fic, they need to stop reading their own hype. Also, the quote about Indonesia is courtesy of Wikipedia because we know nothing about Bali and they do.

A/N: This is, if we're not mistaken, the first slashy fic for SoaP. It was 12:30 AM after an early screening of the movie on Thursday and we couldn't help ourselves. Don't look at us like that; you know you saw it too. Co-written by writers altis and lorataprose, who each have a writing blog at livejournal (we figure if you're geek enough to be part of the SoaP hype you can figure out how to search LJ's site for us ). Blame the late hour, Cobra Starship's "Bring It" on repeat, and the #$#$$in' snakes.

Behold! An insert between the penultimate and final scenes of the movie. Consider yourselves spoiler-warned.

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"You remember the first thing I said to you?"

"'Do what I tell you and you live', yeah."

This was either a mass hallucination brought on by thin air during the loss of cabin pressure or that lip-gloss toting flight steward really did have a blonde bombshell girlfriend to mack.

"Do you realize how wrong that sounded? 's like you're into S&M or something."

Flynn slapped a palm over his eyes, massaged his forehead and reached for his (mirrored) sunglasses.

Sean followed the other man right past an FBI clearance checkpoint. "Especially as the thing you said to me after that was, 'up against the wall and don't say anything, don't even breathe'."

He didn't even look back; just waved vaguely at the agent who'd stepped forward to block Sean from passing.

"And then now you shoot me right in the chest. Do you think that might be mixed signals?"

Goddamn, did he want the entire airport to hear him? Flynn remembered why he didn't deal with civilians. Though the flight attendant, Claire whatsername, hadn't been that bad. Vaguely he heard the kid whining on behind him, and decided this was all his fault. Shoulda stuck with the bad cop role back at the station in Honolulu; never should've said that "couldn't'a done it without you" crap, either. Fucking kids.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Flynn spun around and glared at him, forgetting his mirrored sunglasses. The effect was rather diminished, fucking mirror shades. The hell'd he been thinking, anyway? This wasn't fucking Miami Vice. "Better stop by a medic, kid; think this whole thing's screwed with your head, since you've forgotten I shot you to stop a motherfuckin' snake from chewing through your windpipe."

The kid didn't answer, so Flynn started walking again, his bigass boots clomping over the asphalt. He couldn't tell if he was being followed, ears still ringing from gunfire and plane engines two feet above his head, until the kid was at his elbow.

"So I got an extra ticket to Bali. You wanna come with me after the trial's over?"

"The fuck kind of line is that?"

"It's better than 'Up against the wall and do as I tell you'. Besides, I got used to you watching my ass up there."

"Is that supposed to be cute?"

"Dunno. Did it work?"

"The fuck's in Bali?" Probably the worst subject change in the history of subject changes, but whatever, he was flying blind here.

"Beaches," Sean said, stuffing hands into the front pockets of his torn jeans and shrugging. "And waves. And sand. I was going for the surfing, not the historic sights."

Flynn's mirror shades looked unimpressed.

"Here," the kid said, darting toward an airport bookstore/newsstand. He scrambled with change and bills and reappeared with a pocket-sized guidebook on Indonesia. "' Bali is a tourist destination and, along with Java, known for its highly developed arts, including dance, sculpture, painting, leather and metalworking, and music' and other crap…" he listed, skimming the Bali pages, then flipped through the general Indonesia ones. Sean stopped, and Flynn walked into his bohemian-looking backpack. "'There are over 450 species of snakes in Indonesia'…"

Flynn snatched the book away from him and scanned the page the kid had been reading, ready to smack him one, but he hadn't made it up. Flynn muttered something under his breath and tossed the guidebook into the nearest water fountain, narrowly missing the ballcap-covered head of a six-year-old trying to drink.

"C'mon, it'd be an adventure." The kid grinned. Flynn just stared at him, unable even to dignify that remark with a 'what the fuck!'. Sean's mouth quirked. "Okay, a non-adventure, then. Sun. The ocean. College boys in swim trunks –" He ducked to avoid the hand Flynn sent at his head. "Or just me in swim trunks, whatever."

Flynn rolled his eyes, not like anyone else could tell. "If I say sure, will you shut up?"

He retrieved the guidebook from the fountain and dashed back up. "It also says that 5 of those species of snakes are lethally poisonous…"

In the end Flynn promised to go just to shut the kid up, and under the strict condition that he could bring his taser and electrocute any snake they encountered.


End file.
